Some lives, they say, are linked across time.
If I could find a rhyme,
I'd point out to you that some things are meant to be,
Unlike friends and ends,
Love and adventure don't rhyme.
But you see, they're all meant to be: friends, ends, love, adventure.

Things are simply this way,
Truly, we have no say.
As if someone has written our story,
Thought of our glory.
Written it down in some grand design,
As if what they write has the ability to intertwine our lives.

It's like everything we do is searching for scattered lines of text in our corner of this person's mind.
Many a wise man said we are all connected.
If the grand design were a book, we would be.